


The Key To Magnus' Heart

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Camille Belcourt Being An Asshole, Fluff, Interviews, M/M, Plans For The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Alec has to interview Camille.





	The Key To Magnus' Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Desirae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/gifts).



> As requested by Desirae!

He’s nervous, Magnus thinks, watching the way Alec toys with his fork and his barely touched plate of food, the glass of wine he keeps raising to his lips but forgetting to drink from, and the way his eyes keep darting away to glance over the New York skyline; his mind so very far away from the balcony where they’re supposed to be sharing their dinner.   

It’s not often that Magnus has seen Alec nervous, probably only able to recall that tell-tale twitch of his jaw, and the clenching and unclenching of his right hand down by his side as he abandons dinner to pace the length of the balcony, a handful of times. But from the moment he stepped through portal into their apartment and marched across the room for a kiss that tasted of needing reassurance, Magnus could tell there was something brewing. Has made himself patient for Alec to find a way to get his words out.

Alec pulls him closer the second Magnus joins him from taking their plates through to the kitchen, gathers him close, drops his head down into his neck and holds on tight with a long sigh. And Magnus does all he thinks he can do in that moment; run soothing hands down Alec’s back, press kisses where he can get to, smile warmly when Alec finally pulls back to look him in the eye.  

“I have to go to Idris,”  

It’s not what Magnus was expecting to hear, and it’s not somewhere he particularly likes Alec going; always having a residual fear that he might be delayed, come back burdened with yet more duties, need patience to work through whatever prejudices he’ll be confronted with this time for  _their_  relationship even after how long they've been together. But he smiles easily, loops his arms around Alec’s waist and leans against him, and nods for him to continue speaking when he can.  

“I need to interview  _Camille_ ,” Alec adds, her name coming out in a bitter blast, and leaving a bad taste in Magnus’ mouth for having to hear it.   

“What for?” Magnus asks, unable to keep the surprise from his voice, and cursing himself immediately for the doubt it puts in Alec’s eyes. There are a small number of things that still bother Alec from time to time, and in different ways: his constant uphill struggle for equality for the Downworld met with equally constant resistance from the Clave; those who act irresponsibly under his command—which tends to come down to Jace, and Raj; doubt that surfaces for Alec on the very rare occasions they have an argument; and Camille.  

“I know it’s difficult for you,” Alec says, swallowing hard, and Magnus can’t allow that. He leans in to kiss him, firm and reassuring, cradling his face gently and staring until Alec’s lips curl up into an embarrassed smile.  

“The only difficulty for me involving Camille, is the impact her…  _presence_ , still has on you,” Magnus counters, and it’s true; Camille was important to him for so long that Magnus had once thought she would always be a part of him. But the world is different now;  _he_  is different. He has known true, honest, genuine love through being with Alec, and there is not a jewel, or promise in this world, that would ever make him want to give that up.  

“It’s stupid, I know,” Alec sighs, looking guilty, and like he’s feeling  _foolish_  of all things. So Magnus kisses him again, ends this one with a whispered,  _I love you_ , that turns his self-deprecating scowl into a small, proud smile.  

“I am only surprised that you would need to speak with her after all this time,” Magnus tells him, splaying his fingers wide at his waist.  

“Yeah, well,” Alec huffs, his mouth crumpling up in distaste, “don’t seem to matter how long she’s been gone from here. Turns out she’s got ties to yet another illegal vampire den; run by a guy she sired here,”  

“I suppose there are even more that we don’t know about,” Magnus sighs, closing his eyes to the sting it always brings knowing how easily Camille has always found it to abandon her sired—her  _children_ , as she does.  

“Yeah,” Alec agrees, his eyes also closing for a second, “and that’s sort of the problem here,”  

“Oh?”  

“Magnus,” Alec says, gripping him a little more urgently, “Camille’s lived in a lot of places,”  

“I know that, Alexander,” Magnus huffs, “I—”  

“I mean, a  _lot_ ,” Alec insists, and now it’s his turn to grip Magnus a little tighter, “which means, she’s sired a  _lot_  of vampires,”  

The thought is unsettling for Magnus despite it not being news, and it must show on his face for the way Alec wraps him up tight in his arms.  

“What’s this about, Alexander?”  

“It seems,” Alec sighs, dropping his forehead on Magnus’ shoulder for a second before straightening up, and sighing, “that… you know how you used that grave dirt to… to  _summon_  her, before sending her to Idris back when you did?”  

Magnus nods, a tiny tendril of revelation making his stomach begin to knot.  

“Well,” Alec says, holding his breath for a second, “it looks like she’s… planted, or at least left some more of her grave dirt with a bunch of her sireds,”  

“And she…”  

“It looks like she’s done it deliberately, so she can… I don’t know, Magnus. Almost like she planned it, so if she got stuck anywhere, she could be summoned back. Kept herself quiet for all this time and just—”  

“She’s… this vampire is trying to summon her from  _Idris_? The one here?” Magnus asks, his eyes blowing a little wide for the thought of it first, and then the audacity of Camille second.  

“I mean, she’s not going anywhere,” Alec huffs, rolling his eyes, “there’s no way she’ll ever be able to get through the wards, charms, security—everything, in Idris. But the sensors around her cell went off three times last week, apparently. And they traced it back to the vampire den here,”  

“So… you need to go to Idris to… what, exactly?” Magnus asks, loathing the idea of this burden being put on Alec’s shoulders.  

“Since the last vampire trying to summon her’s on my patch,” Alec shrugs, “they want me to talk to her. Try… I don’t know, Magnus; I think they think I can  _reason_  with her. Find out where this other grave dirt might be. Expose a few more vampire nests while we’re at it; the whole two birds with one stone thing,”  

Magnus is incensed. That the Clave would repeatedly call on Alec to help with Downworlder issues while still looking down on him in disdain for  _their_  relationship. For the constant  _whispering_  he knows still goes on for the tarnished Lightwood name—that Alec has no responsibility in the tarnishing of; aside from that sham of a wedding, of course, that Lydia long forgave them both for, and since her opinion in the matter is the only one Magnus thinks  _really_  matters, is of no one else’s concern. And that any part of  _his_  past is still able to cause Alec hurt, without Magnus having any direct involvement himself.  

“I’ll come with you,”  

Alec’s eyes light up in hope the moment the words leave Magnus’ lips, his chin lifting in a little more confidence, and the very corners of his mouth turning up into a hesitant smile. “You will?”  

“Of course,” Magnus nods, holding on to him harder, “Alexander; I may not be anything but moral support in this. I’m sure there will be… objections to just my being there, never mind me helping you speak with her. But I’ll be by your side for it—or at least… nearby,” Magnus amends, determined not to shudder at the thought of being so close to any kind of Clave cell after his own experience that still keeps him awake sometimes, yet is even more determined to be there for Alec.  

“You… I didn’t wanna ask, but—”  

“You didn’t need to ask,” Magnus smiles, cupping his face and drawing him in to a kiss, “I know, better than anyone, just how unpleasant Camille can be. I will do all I can to help you with this, Alexander. This should not be your burden to carry alone. This should not be your burden at all,”  

Alec’s smile is warmer then, wider than it’s been all evening, and when Magnus draws him into a hug, he’s sure he can feel the tension seeping away from his shoulders. He whispers more  _I love_ _yous_  into the side of his head until Alec sighs against him, then takes him by the hand and leads him inside, determined to find other ways to distract him for the rest of their evening before they discuss when they will need to leave for Idris.  

* * *

They’ve moved Camille to a holding cell, and while Magnus is half-grateful that he’s not having to set foot in the bowels of Idris’ dungeon-like cells, the similarity of Camille's holding cell to those at the New York Institute where he was wrongly held as Valentine is making his heart flutter, and his rushed lunch with Alec before leaving sits heavy on his stomach like it might want to make a reapperance. Still, he’s not there for himself, he’s there for Alec, so he can deal with the uncomfortable setting, the sneer of the guards at the door directed at him, and the general unpleasantness he feels just for  _being_  in Idris.  

The simpering, taunting laugh of Camille echoing around the room and the way it puts fresh tension in Alec’s spine, however, Magnus could do without.  

“Well, I never thought I’d be seeing Magnus’ boy toy again,” she says, and Magnus may be out of her sight, but she is not out of his. The one way glass to the side of the cell allows him to see the way she’s posturing, like she’s in one of her sumptuous dresses instead of the drab prison outfit she’s currently wearing. Camille is beautiful, there is no denying that, but it’s her attitude, lack of compassion, and unwavering conceit that makes her ugly. It’s been a while since he’s even thought of Camille in any way at all, and seeing her there before him now makes Magnus question many of the decisions he’s made in his life involving her.  

“Your  _sired_  attempted to summon you to New York,” Alec says, his voice that formal, stern tone he tends to use when working, though Magnus can hear the edge to it and wants nothing more than to reach out and hold his hand.   

“That’s hardly my fault,” Camille replies, totally disinterested.  

“Since it’s  _your_  grave dirt they’re trying to summon you with.  _Your_  sired trying to do the summoning. I’d say it’s pretty much entirely your fault,” Alec counters, arms behind his back in that military-like stance of his that means he’s serious. That for anyone else he’s in command of, means they need to listen, to show some respect, to do as they’re being asked.  

Camille just laughs in that dismissive tone of hers that Magnus only now realizes he’s always found grating, and wants to reveal himself if only to tell her just how annoying it is. Though they’ve agreed, he and Alec, that he’ll be there only as support, and not show himself, knowing it will only make her goad Alec further than she’s already going to do.  

“Of course, there’s no way for you to get out of here, no matter how many times they try,” Alec adds, his shoulders stiffening further.  

“If that were true, you wouldn’t even be here,” Camille retorts. Magnus catches Alec’s eyeroll and pleads with him to keep up the pretense of being unaffected by her for as long as possible. Knows it’s far too much to ask. 

“We thought it would make things easier if we… came to the source. Got details from you about however many other sired vampires of yours are out there with access to the means to summon you with,”  

“Oh, but isn’t it more fun this way?” Camille drawls, trailing her fingers against the glass and raising her chin in defiance. “I was getting tired of having no one to talk to. This way, you and I can get to know one another better,”  

“There is absolutely nothing I need, or want, to know about you, aside from this,” Alec counters, and Magnus winces for it, can recognize the glint of triumph in Camille’s eyes even if Alec cannot.  

“Well that’s surely not true,” Camille says with false surprise, smiling at him, “surely there are all kinds of things you are desperate to know about dear, sweet Magnus,”  

“This isn’t about  _Magnus_ ,” Alec says bluntly, “this is about you. Your sired, and your attempts to—”  

“But of course, you  _want_  to know more about Magnus,” Camille says, tilting her head a little in that way she does that is coquettish, and Magnus cringes that he once used to find it endearing. She is nothing but a cruel tease, and Magnus wants to drag Alec from the room and leave her to simper all to herself.  

“If there is anything Magnus wants to share with me, then he’s already shared it,” Alec counters, trying and failing to come off as disinterested. Magnus hates how quickly Camille has hit a nerve, and braces for worse taunting to come.  

“Of course, my dear,” she says, turning and pacing away from the glass, “he’ll tell you what he wants to tell you. But what about all those other things he doesn’t want you to know? All those little secrets, deeds, indiscretions that I’m sure Magnus wouldn’t entrust with anyone. Anyone but me, that is,”  

Is Alec taking the bait? Magnus can’t tell, can only see the deepening of his scowl, the squaring of his shoulders that says he’s not comfortable, and the slightly faster rise and fall of his chest that possibly only  _he_  would notice for how much he has watched Alec in the past.   

“Are you going to give me details of where we might expect to find more—”  

“I know him better than anyone,”  

“I find that hard to believe,” Alec huffs, and Magnus grits his teeth, bracing for whatever new vitriol is about to spill from Camille’s mouth.  

“Really,” Camille says, turning to face him again with her hands on her hips, and her face lit up in delight, “tell me, then, Shadowhunter, what _you_ know of Magnus’ past,”  

“I know enough,”   

“What you know about Magnus Bane barely scratches the surface,” she teases, “and—”  

“We aren’t here to talk about Magnus,” Alec repeats, then sighs and turns on his heel, muttering a, “this is pointless,” before heading for the door.  

“But you’re curious. Aren’t you,” Camille calls. Magnus wishes Alec would keep on walking instead of coming to a stop.   

“Not really,” Alec says without turning, his voice coming out disinterested, but Magnus can hear the tension there anyway, wishing he could do something about it.  

“If you weren’t curious, you wouldn’t be here,” Camille tells him.  

“I’m here, ‘cos your sired’s attempts to summon you have been setting off the sensors here,” Alec says, spinning back around, “and because they’re in New York—”  

“Magnus must enjoy how quickly you come  _running_  when you’re called,”  

“You didn’t call me,” Alec counters, raising a furious eyebrow, “I’m here for the—”  

“Clave,” Camille finishes for him, “yes, I’m sure you are. I’m sure Magnus enjoys how quickly you do their bidding for them as well,”  

Magnus closes his eyes. There aren’t many things they argue about anymore, but if there’s ever anything they do, it’s generally to do with how many hours either of them are working—and of course the constant conflicts that arise between the Downworlders and the Clave.   

“Look—”  

“It’s astonishing you’ve lasted together as long as you have, really,” Camille adds, the tone in her voice making Magnus want to lash out with magic. “Though he does always go for the cute ones,”  

“Camille—”  

“I’m even more surprised he hasn’t gone off the novelty of you already,” Camille tells him, simpering, “though you aren’t his first Shadowhunter,”  

Magnus grits his teeth. Alec knows of his past, knows of his partners; in fact, there’s nothing much Alec doesn’t know about him—and nothing that he wouldn’t willingly share if he already hasn't. But Camille is clever; she’s an expert in getting to the root of anyone’s insecurities, and from the look on Alec’s face, she’s breaking down the wall he’s been so carefully constructing since hearing that he’d have to make this trip to Idris.  

“And I’m sure there’s only so much  _pleasure_  to be had from de-virgining a repressed Shadowhunter,” Camille smiles, eyes narrowing a touch as though she’s physically looking at the point in him she’s trying to strike.   

Alec glances in Magnus’ direction, even though Magnus knows he’s trying not to, and then turns his eyes to the floor. “Are you going to answer my question or not?”  

“You haven’t, technically, asked me a question,” Camille smiles, coming to stand closer to the glass once again.  

“I—”  

“I wonder what it’s like?”  

Magnus just about stops himself from calling out a warning not to take her bait.  

“What what’s like?”  

“To know,”  

“To know what?”  

“Oh,” Camille says, turning coyly away again, before glancing back at him, “that Magnus will have to watch you wither away. That all this toned muscle and pretty face will fade. And that the look in his eyes that he has for you now, will one day go out. Fall elsewhere,”  

Magnus is indignant. That he would ever be turned by merely a  _pretty face_  is—   

“And either you’ll die first, old and decrepit, as Magnus keeps his youth, stays with you—if he can force himself to, of course, out of nothing but a sense of duty—while you waste away to nothing. Or Magnus will tire of you like he does all his other toys, and you’ll spend the rest of your pathetic life wondering what it must be like to be good enough to hold the attention of someone so… exotic,”  

Alec is incensed. Magnus has an idle thought that he would like to be able to read his mind.  

“You see, Alec,” Camille says, beginning to prowl in front of him as though preparing to pounce, “Magnus is incapable of existing without love, affection, _intimacy_. It’s silly, really; an immortal that would choose to bind himself to a mortal for the duration of their life?”  

“Magnus—”  

“He’s done it before, you know,” she adds, casting a glance at Alec’s face before sliding it away again.  

“Done what?”  

“Fallen in love. Lived with a mortal until their death; mourned for them for thirty years after their passing. Just about killed him,” she smiles as though that idea is  _funny_ , and Alec’s fists are curling into tighter and tighter balls by his sides.  

“I know,”  

“He told you,” Camille says, smiling harder, and Magnus sees the flicker of surprise on her face before she manages to school it in.  

“Of course. It’s what happens in a real relationship; you share everything,”   

“A real relationship?” Camille huffs in derision. “Oh, Alec; as if you, of all people, would know what a real relationship was like,”  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

“Magnus is your first,” she taunts, coming to a stop in front of him. “Magnus has, no doubt, had to teach you… so very, many things,” and her eyes sweep in a deliberate gaze over Alec’s body, poorly hiding a laugh behind her hand as she turns again.  

“So?”  

“So how would you  _know_  what a real relationship is like, if  _this_  is all you’ve ever known?” Camille demands, pivoting on her heel as gracefully as she would be doing were she in a favored pair of stilettos.   

“Camille—”  

“I looked into you, you know,” she adds then, turning a wider circle as she taunts him, and Magnus wants to put an end to it, snap his fingers to silence the microphone her voice is seeping through.  

“And?”  

“I mean, before I was imprisoned  _here_. I was curious,” she smiles, “a Shadowhunter catching a warlock’s eye is… an amusing frivolity. Magnus and I have known each other for so long; it is my duty to… keep an eye on what he’s getting himself involved in,”  

“Like you’d care—”  

“Oh I  _care_ , Alec,” Camille says firmly, “it’s in my interest to keep my… options open,”  

“So what you’re saying is, you keep tabs on Magnus so you’ve got… someone to use. To come rescue you, when you get into trouble,” Alec retorts, that scowl becoming more of a glare.  

“Whatever,” Camille snaps, “but I was curious as to why an insolent, acerbic  _Lightwood_  had so thoroughly caught his attention,”  

“Find anything interesting?” Alec asks, hands clasping behind his back as he too begins to pace.  

“Nothing,” Camille replies, “nothing. At. All. There is nothing about you I can even begin to understand making Magnus want to spend, oh, I don’t know. Perhaps another… fifty, sixty years by your side, only to be left yet again. He doesn’t do well being  _left_ ,”  

“Who says I’m gonna leave him?” Alec asks, coming to a stop closer to the glass.  

“You don’t have any choice,”  

“Everyone has a choice, Camille,” Alex counters, his posture growing more confident as he squares his shoulders and comes to a stop.  

“You—”  

“For instance. You could  _choose_  to give me the locations of all the vampires you’ve sired, make my job easier,”  

“And why would I do that?”  

“Because,” Alec shrugs, “it would be kinder to them,”  

“To who?”   

“The vampires you’ve sired. Your  _children_ ,”  

“You think I care about any of  _them_?” Camille demands, incredulous at the idea. The callous dismissiveness in her tone has Magnus closing his eyes for a second.  

“Exactly,” Alec smiles, and the smug look on his face should not have Magnus on the verge of laughter, but it does.  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”   

Camille yelling and in a temper Magnus has been on the receiving end of countless times, witnessed her fury at others countless more. So he knows there’s an element of doubt that he’s seeing as she glares at Alec, suspicion narrowing her eyes, and Magnus gets an unexpected twist of satisfaction for it.  

“It means,” Alec replies, “that  _that_  is exactly what I can give Magnus, that you never could,”  

“Which is what?”  

“Family,”  

“ _Family_ ,” Camille sneers, “what use is family to—”  

“Not  _use_ ,” Alec says, correcting her, “but you said it yourself; it is something Magnus  _wants_. You  _know_  that, if, like you said, you know him better than anyone,”  

“So, what,” she laughs, “you think your little group of Shadowhunters are any substitute for an eternal lifetime together?”  

“I didn’t say that,”  

“Magnus is a Downworlder, in case you hadn’t noticed. He needs to be with his own people,”  

“And he is,” Alec agrees, “but he’s more than that; Magnus needs— _has_  more than that,”  

Magnus tells himself not to preen at Alec’s words, not revel in the easy way Alec speaks about what  _he_  wants, and how he plans on giving it to him. Not to feel his heart soar for how much he is loved. But he can’t.  

“Magnus has made you cocky,” Camille bites back at him, livid with not being able to understand him.  

“Magnus has made me all kinds of things,” Alec agrees, his shoulders dropping further in his easy relaxation. And okay, Magnus thinks to himself, perhaps he’s preening a  _little_  more for how easy it is for Alec to acknowledge just how much Magnus loves  _him_. 

“I—”  

“He’s given me things that you would only ever laugh at. Would only ever have taken for granted, or dismiss,” Alec smiles. It’s equal, Magnus tells Alec silently, what they give and do for one another is equal. Though Alec’s confidence growing right there before his very eyes is truly swelling his heart. 

“I—”  

“I suppose I should be  _thanking_  you, really,” he adds, taking a brief glance in Magnus’ direction, which seems to throw Camille off even more.   

“Alec—”  

“I’m never gonna leave him, Camille. Never,” Alec says then, sterner than he’s been since walking into the room.  

“But—”  

“You wanna know the real reason why I’m the one here asking you about this?” Alec asks, and oh, Magnus thinks with his heart stuttering, that smile is triumphant, and delightful to see.  

“Somebody has to do the menial tasks,”  

“I am so pleased that you recognize dealing with  _you_  is menial,” Alec retorts, smiling harder. Magnus gives a cheer internally and barely holds in a snort.  

“Listen—”  

“The thing is,” Alec continues, pacing again, but now in that relaxed gait that Magnus can’t help watching every step of in appreciation. Alec is beautiful when he walks, Magnus thinks, but then, he thinks everything Alec does is beautiful. “The New York Institute is soon going to have a new Head,”  

“You’re being demoted for your dalliance with the Downworld?” Camille sneers, and Alec drops his head forward and laughs.  

“Not quite. I suppose you could call it a promotion; feels like it is to me, anyway,”  

“But I—”  

“A few months from now, once the ceremony is completed, I’ll be focusing solely on liaising between the Clave and the Downworld. It will be my task to work on ways to broker the peace between both sides,”  

“Your people and our people?” Camille laughs, rolling her eyes, “you wouldn’t—”  

“Oh, but they won’t be  _your_  people, and  _my_  people,” Alec smiles, coming to a stop and stretching a little, which is another view Magnus is always pleased to see.  

“What?”  

“Camille. A couple of months from now, I’ll be taking part in a ceremony to become immortal. So, technically, I won’t be on a different side to you anymore. I mean,” he laughs to himself, smiling, “I always intend to be on the opposite side of  _you_ , whatever you do,”  

“But—”  

“But I’m just here tying up some loose ends so my successor doesn’t have to deal with too many…  _issues_  when they take over,”  

“You won’t go through with it,” Camille bites out, that doubt she’d hidden a few minutes earlier now rippling through her voice.  

“Go through with what?”  

“The ceremony,” she seethes, “the immortality. You wouldn’t dare,”  

“Oh, I wouldn’t?” Alec counters, his tone clipped with dangerous amusement.  

“It will be painful. Excruciating. Agonizing—”  

“I don’t care,” Alec shrugs easily, “any pain I go through—any  _thing_  I go through for Magnus, is worth it. Magnus is worth… everything,”  

Magnus’ heart soars once more for Alec’s words, and he starts planning all sorts of ways to show him just how thankful he is for hearing them. Just as soon as they get home. 

“Alec—”  

“And together, we’re gonna have a family. A real one; with love, and care, and… all kindsa things you aren’t capable of,”  

“You—”   

“Like I said,” Alec says, raising his chin in defiance, “I’m never gonna leave Magnus. Never. And I’d invite you to the wedding, but—”  

“But we really don’t want you there,” Magnus interrupts, unable to resist stepping forward to join Alec and echoing the triumphant smile on his face, before reaching out to tangle their fingers together for a moment. Smiling as when he goes to pull them away, Alec snatches them back up.  

“Magnus,”  

Camille is livid. Magnus chides himself for being so wicked for  _enjoying_  seeing the look on her face. All the history between them is important, but Alec is more important, and that she would find joy in attempting to  _wound_  him in any way makes Magnus feel like she is getting everything she deserves.  

“Hi, Camille,” he says with a small wave, pressing firmer into Alec’s side.  

“I’ll ask you one more time,” Alec says, “are you going to tell me the location of the sireds with access to your grave dirt, or not?”  

Camille glowers back at them both, her shoulders rising and falling with contemptuous rage, and Magnus watches the staring competition going on between them for a few seconds before turning a little and reaching up to gently flatten down Alec’s collar, determined to get his attention in as discreet a way as possible. Alec looks down at his hand, reaches out to cover it with his own, then turns and nods towards the door.  

“Wait,” Camille calls as they begin to walk away, but neither Alec nor Magnus turn back. Alec nods to the guard as they leave with his hand resting squarely on Magnus’ lower back.  

“Are you in any hurry to get back?” Alec asks once the sound of Camille calling after them dies down, replaced with the echo of their footsteps in the hallway.  

“Not particularly,” Magnus replies, wondering what Alec has in mind.  

“How would you feel,” Alec asks softly, turning and crowding him back against a wall and kissing him sweetly, “about a tour. Of all the places I used to come to here as a kid? In Idris?”  

Magnus thinks about the few photographs Maryse showed him over dinner of Alec as a child, and feels his heart thud in excitement at the idea. “I would love that,”  

“And,” Alec continues, circling his thumbs over Magnus’ waist, “if you think you can handle it, I think Mom and Dad would love to have dinner with us. I didn't promise anything, of course, but when I told Mom you were coming with me for _this_ , she practically started planning. Cleared their schedules for tonight, at least,”  

The relationship Magnus now shares with Maryse and Robert Lightwood is one he had never in a million years expected, or even wanted in the beginning. But the way they now include him as though he is already family, their acceptance of Alec’s choice to be with him, and the tentative blessing they’ve given for Alec’s decision to become immortal, means there’s a warmth in Magnus’ heart when he thinks of Alec’s parents. So it’s easy to nod in acceptance of Alec’s suggestion, and even easier to accept his kisses as he pulls him in tight.  

“I’ll even portal us somewhere if they would prefer it,” Magnus whispers, leaning in to Alec’s embrace and tilting his chin up for another kiss.  

“Actually, there’s a restaurant they love not too far from here, that I think Mom’ll get a kick out of you trying,”  

“Me?” Magnus asks, surprised.  

“Yes, Magnus,” Alec smiles, “something to do with finally having someone in the family who can appreciate good food,”  

Maryse has said similar things in Magnus’ company before, of course, with Alec and Robert rolling their eyes in unison at their own preference for simple dishes being dismissed, as Maryse casted disapproving glances in their direction while topping up Magnus’ glass.  

“Then I would like that very much,” Magnus tells him, and there’s one final kiss before Alec is pulling back, lacing their fingers together and tugging, already pointing out places from his childhood with anecdotes that mean there’s a permanent smile on Magnus’ face as they walk.   


End file.
